


Tell Me More

by EveJobs



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Ford has issues, Implied Past Billford, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Sibling Incest, Some unexpected feelings in the end, and a lot of them, idk what this is supposed to be tbh, mention of (canon) character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveJobs/pseuds/EveJobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanley tells Ford a story. Ford gets more into it than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me More

**Author's Note:**

> I finally wrote something again! And it's... all over the place. This started out as just an awful idea for porn but then it got strangely feelsy as I was writing it. Hope it's somewhat coherent and enjoyable!

Ford settled down on the blanket that he and Stan had laid out on the deck of the Stan-o-war II. It was the first sunny afternoon after two whole weeks of persistent rainstorms, so they had decided to celebrate the occasion with an impromptu picnic. It then turned out that Stanley’s idea of a “picnic” revolved entirely around a six-pack of beer and, much to Ford’s dismay, a case of cigars that was currently being offered to him.

“Want one?”

Ford eyed his brother suspiciously. “No thanks,” he said, making a face. “I didn’t know you smoked, Stanley.”

“Yeah, well…” Stan replied, clasping the case shut, “there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

There was no hint of accusation in his tone, only a sense of wistfulness for the time they both had lost. Stan put one of the cigars between his lips and took out his lighter. Sheltering the flame from the breeze with one hand, he took a deep drag. Smoke mixed in with the salty smell of the sea.

Ford looked to the horizon and smiled. “I guess you’re right. Although I could say the same thing to you, you know.” He carefully opened up a can of beer and took a small sip. Rays of sunlight broken by the atmosphere painted the sky in vivid colors. Soon it would be filled to the brim with stars, a breathtaking view that was only possible in the absence of any artificial light. There was no land in sight.

Stan chuckled. “Oh, you mean like your former relationship to a certain _triangle_? I think I’m pretty well off not knowing about that, thanks.”

Ford could feel his cheeks heat up. “It’s… it wasn’t… it’s not what you think, Stanley.” He started fiddling with the tab on the can in his hands, but only succeeded in ripping it off immediately. Who was he even kidding with this? “…probably.” He added weakly. “Maybe. I don’t… I-“

“Look, you don’t have to talk about it, Ford,” Stan said, putting a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “It’s in the past. Just forget I said anything.”

Ford was thankful. He knew he would probably have to open up about his past eventually, but it was difficult. Everything that had happened back then… it didn’t even feel real anymore, more like a story, something that happened to an entirely different person.

Their eyes met for a second, and Ford knew that his brother understood. Stan gave him a few friendly pats on the shoulder, before returning his attention to the cigar in his hand.

“Let’s just focus on the present, huh?” he said after taking another drag, “like how we totally kicked that weird octopus-thing’s butt today!”

Ford smirked. “Actually, it was a squid, Stanley. You can tell by the fins on its head-“

“Squid, octopus, whatever. Would you quit being a nerd for five minutes? I’m trying to have a moment here.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Ford took another sip from his can and smiled at his brother. “We do make a good team, don’t we?”

“Hell yeah we do! That thing didn’t stand a chance!”

Ford laughed. “I can’t believe you punched it right in the eye!”

“Well,” Stan bragged, “punching one-eyed monsters is kind of my specialty, if you haven’t noticed.”

That gave Ford pause.

“Wait, so you… you _punched_ Bill?” He tried his best to suppress the slight tremor in his voice.

Stan grinned obliviously. “Sure did! Right in the eye, too. Served that jerk right!”

“So you… remember? I figured since there was no one else there to witness it, you wouldn’t…” Ford trailed off. His palms were getting sweaty.

Stan gave him a pensive look. “Yeah, I didn’t remember it at first. Even when I got all my memories of the summer back, that part was always… cloudy. It actually just came back to me a couple of days ago. I was looking at this photo of me and the kids.” He smiled. “And the pig. And suddenly I remembered everything! That photo… it was the last thing I saw before I, you know…”

They both went quiet for a moment. Ford was still looking for something to occupy his hands with, to distract himself from the fluttering in his stomach. He felt guilty. His brother was sharing an intense and potentially traumatic memory with him, and here he was, getting excited about… damn it. He had to ask. He had to _know_.

“So, what exactly happened in there?” He asked slowly, making a vague gesture towards Stanley’s head. “I mean, did you… talk to him?”

It felt like such an awkward thing to ask. Ford cleared his throat. “Of course, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to…” he offered.

Stan did want to talk about it though. He told Ford about his mindscape – how he had cleared it of everything except the Mystery Shack living room, so as not to alert Bill to the fact that he had entered the wrong mind. Ford was impressed. Clearing your mind like that wasn’t something just everyone could do.

He took a long swig of his beer as Stan recounted the conversation between him and the demon, trying to hide the smile that kept persistently tugging at his lips. Even if Ford hadn’t been the one to bring him down in the end, hearing about Bill’s distress gave him the sweetest feeling of victory.

“… and then he was kneeling on the floor and freaking out, you should have seen it, Ford. And I told him, I said ‘Turn around and look at me, you one-eyed demon!’. And the look in his eye, it was just-” Stan suddenly paused his story, looking at Ford suspiciously.

“Uhh, Sixer, are you… getting hard?”

Shit.

Ford hadn’t realized it before, but now that Stanley had mentioned it – his pants did feel a lot tighter than usual. Not that they weren’t already _unusually_ tight to begin with, which wasn’t doing him any favors right about now and oh _god,_ Stanley was just _staring at him._ How could he possibly justify this? Damn his preference for yoga pants!

Ford briefly contemplated jumping off the railing and surrendering his body to the sea. It wouldn’t be a quick death, but still a lot quicker than the one he was currently facing.

He should probably say something.

“I, uh,” I _what_? I’m just _getting off_ on your story of bringing a triangle demon to his knees? A demon with whom, if I’m being completely honest, I might have a certain _history_ with? “I guess I am,” he finished lamely, trying his best to look as if he was as surprised by this development as Stanley must have been. _Wow, great job IQ, you’re just the epitome of wit_ , a voice in the back of his head piped up.

Stanley gave him an unreadable look. He put out what was left of his cigar and stood. “Let’s go inside. It’s getting cold”

Ford was mortified. He’d expected Stanley to mock him, but this? This was way worse. He watched his brother turn around and head for the entrance in silence, unable to come up with anything to say. _It was only a matter of time before you screwed everything up again,_ the voice in his head mocked.

 _No_ , he thought. He was not going to let that happen again.

“I’m sorry, Stanley!” Ford shouted, rushing after his twin.

Entering the cabin, he could see Stanley standing with his back to him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “That was very… inappropriate of me. Please, let me just-“

Stan turned around.

He was grinning.

In a matter of seconds, Ford found himself pinned to the door. Stan’s mouth was on his, a thigh wedged between his legs, pressing insistently against his crotch. A moan escaped Ford’s lips before he could even process the situation. He could feel his twin’s smile against his lips, obviously thrilled at the reaction he had caused.

Stanley pulled back a little, a look of triumph on his face.

“So you like my story, huh?”

Ford hoped that his blush wasn’t too visible in the dim light of the cabin. “Y-Yes?” he admitted. He wasn’t sure where this was going, but found that he didn’t mind the uncertainty.

“Wanna hear more of it?”

Ford pressed his lips together. His heart was pounding in his ribcage, much to his annoyance. He was usually better at keeping his composure. His still painfully hard erection certainly didn’t help. Trying to hide the desperation in his voice, he softly said, “Yes, I would.”

Stanley took a few steps backwards.

“Kneel on the floor,” he instructed.

Ford’s knees gave in embarrassingly fast, directed completely by instinct. The familiarity of the situation wasn’t lost on him, churning his stomach. Even after all this time, certain reactions were just programmed into him, entrenched deeply in his psyche. He’d never thought that Stanley would be the one elicit them though. His brother seemed surprised as well. This sort of dynamic was completely unexplored between them. Ford could only trust that Stanley knew what he was doing. He knew better than to underestimate his twin at this point, a lesson he had certainly learned the hard way.

Surely enough, Stanley quickly regained his composure. He flashed a grin at Ford. “You’re looking a little uncomfortable there, bro,” he said, looking pointedly at Ford’s tented crotch, “maybe you should take care of it.”

Ford was eager to comply. Any reservations he might have had were quickly pushed to the back of his head, overwhelmed by unbridled lust. He unzipped his pants and took himself in his hand, but not moving, not yet. He looked at his brother for a sign of permission. Stanley nodded.

“So as I was saying,” he continued, as Ford started slowly moving his hand up and down his shaft, “Bill was kneeling on the ground before me and when I ordered him to turn around, he did. He looked at me, and in that moment I knew that it was over. He was _terrified_.”

Ford’s breath hitched. He could just picture it, kneeling on the floor like this with Stanley looming over him, his voice harsh and commanding. A tiny pearl of precum was already leaking out of him, which he swiftly collected with his palm, before he started pumping in earnest again.

“What did you say to him?” he asked with ragged breath.

Stanley’s face turned serious. “I said ‘You’re a real wise guy, but you made one fatal mistake! You messed with my family!’” While he was repeating his words, he pointed at Ford menacingly, a sort of distant look in his eyes. It was as though Stanley wasn’t just reenacting the scene, he seemed to be actually living through it.

Ford was overcome by emotions.

For one thing, Stanley’s protectiveness over his family, over him, was incredibly touching. Ford already admired his brother greatly for the sacrifice he had made, and this only served to solidify his opinion. Then, there was guilt. The guilt of not believing in his brother, of abandoning him when he needed him most. It was something Ford was constantly trying to make up for, probably would be for the rest of his life.

On a different, and somewhat messed up level, he was also incredibly turned on. Imagining Stanley in such a powerful and dominant position, it was – different. It was new and exciting and, yes, it was simply _hot_. And then there was the immense satisfaction he felt at the thought of Bill getting defeated, on his knees, fearing for his life – Ford shuddered, squeezing his aching cock hard. Was it bad that he felt sexually aroused by someone else’s _death_? Even if the being in question was a dream demon who literally tried to destroy the world and threatened to kill his family, the concept seemed questionable. It was probably best not to think about it. Morality takes a back seat when you’re currently jerking off in front of your twin brother.

Meanwhile, Stanley was still continuing his story, telling him about all the promises Bill had made, trying to bargain his way out – “You should have been there, Ford, it was incredible. All-powerful demon, and he was literally on the floor begging me for mercy. He was so _desperate_ ” – Ford picked up his pace, a low moan building in his throat – “And then he started, uh, transforming into all these weird forms and he was kind of melting at some point? I think?” Stanley scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, that’s probably a turn-off, huh.”

“No, keep going,” Ford said breathily, any pretense of dignity long forgotten, “describe it to me.” He closed his eyes, intent to focus only on Stanley’s voice as he continued to thrust into the slick tightness of his hand. He was so _close_.

“Really? Okay.”

As Stanley continued to describe the last stages of Bill’s demise – strange transformations, glitches, an ominous incantation – Ford could feel his climax coming on, and suddenly there were hands on him and a mouth sucking at his throat, whispering in his ear, “and then I punched him with full force, and he shattered into a million tiny pieces”, as one hand closed around his own, squeezing tightly, and Ford came with a wailing moan, collapsing against his brother.

Ford breathed heavily into Stanley’s shoulder, suddenly noticing the slimy sensation in his lap, the way his sweater was sticking to his back uncomfortably. Stanley’s hand was in his hair, holding him close, fingers running idly over his scalp.

For a minute, they didn’t say anything, just breathing in the scents of one another.

As the haze of his afterglow started to dissipate, Ford felt a crawling sense of doubt take over him. How could he have let things get so out of control? He should have never allowed Stanley to see him like this. How weak he was, how _sick_. _No one_ should see this side of him.

 _No one but me_ , he was reminded. _You’re mine, Stanford. From now until the end of time. Did you really think you could ever be free? Did you think killing me would make a difference?_

Ford pressed his eyes shut almost painfully, trying to will the intrusive voice out of his head. It wasn’t real. It _couldn’t_ be real. _He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s-_

“Ford?”

Two hands were pressed against his shoulders, holding him upright. Ford opened his eyes to see Stanley’s face right in front of him, looking at him like he’d been hit by a bus. His eyelashes felt heavy. He realized he must have been crying.

“Stanley.” His voice was raw and husky. He cleared his throat. “Stanley I’m sorry…”

A kiss silenced him. It was a small kiss, but an intimate one. There was no hunger in it like before. It was comfort, a promise.

Their lips parted, and Stanley smiled, nervously.

“Look, Ford. I don’t know exactly what’s going on with you, or what happened to you in the past. And maybe I’m not always great with the whole ‘talking about our feelings’ deal, but… I want to be. I want to be there for you. And I want you to know that, whenever you’re ready, you can talk to me. About everything. Okay?”

Ford peered down at his hands. “What if the things I want to tell you are too much? The things I’ve seen… the things I’ve _done_ , Stanley…” Ford took a breath and looked back up, meeting his brother’s eyes, “I’m afraid you’ll be disgusted with me.”

Stanley snorted. “Disgusted? Look who you’re talking to! I’ve been to prison, Ford! The list of crimes I’ve committed is literally endless! Do you really think I’m in a position to judge you for _anything_?”

Before he could help it, a smile crept its way onto Ford’s face. “I think you mean figuratively, not _literally_ ,” he said sheepishly.

“Oh don’t you ‘Grammar, Stanley’ me again, ya old bastard,” Stanley laughed, giving Ford’s shoulder a friendly nudge. He stood up, holding out a hand for Ford to grab on to. “Come on, let’s get you out of those filthy clothes and into a bed.”

“Which bed?” Ford asked, taking hold of Stanley’s hand.

Stanley grinned as he pulled him up.

“That’s up to you to decide.”


End file.
